


let mortal tongues awake

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5 Things, Coming Out, Five Plus One Things, M/M, Mutual Pining, NurseyDex Week, established background relationships - Freeform, kind.... boys being dumb? feelings realization, the tenses are all over the place...... humor me, theres a cameo of dana from wtnv in here because i hc her and johnson as friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 18:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11515239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: five times dex comes out... and one time he doesn't have to.





	let mortal tongues awake

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from 'my country, tis of thee' because i couldn't for the life of me think of a title.

  **CHOWDER**

 

The first person William Poindexter came out to at Samwell was Chris Chow.

Despite Dex’s “rugged masculinity” (Shitty’s words, not his own) he had already been out of the closet back home in Maine. He didn’t advertise it, but he also didn’t advertise his love for what Nursey dubbed “dad rock” or his ability to play the guitar. It was just something about him, and if someone asked, or if it came up, well. So be it.  Even at Samwell, the land of one in four (and honestly, Will was suspicious of that statistic) he didn’t feel the need to parade his identity around. He didn’t come to Samwell for the queer club; he came to Samwell to play hockey and stay out of trouble. After an intro gender and sexuality class and more than one of Shitty’s lectures, he had done some navel-gazing about whether this was a product of internalized homophobia and come away with the conclusion that it was mostly just the product of being a closed person and a bit of an emotional brick wall. (That was a problem for another day.) So, he would play hockey and stay out of trouble, not catch any feelings.

            It looked like it would be harder than he’d thought to do the latter, though, thanks to one Derek Malik Nurse.

            God, Nursey was infuriating. All they did was bicker, and Dex had never felt such a rush at the mere thought of a person before. They were no Ransom and Holster, sure, but they had undeniable chemistry on the ice. That should have been enough for Dex. But… He couldn’t help but wonder if that chemistry would translate to other areas, as well. And that… That just wouldn’t do.

As much as it seemed impossible, Derek was his best friend, or as close as he had at Samwell, besides Chowder. The logical, conclusion, then, was to go to Chowder’s room in the middle of the night after having a nervous breakdown and wrap himself in a fleece Sharks blanket.

            It’s not like he wanted to have a crush on Nursey. He hadn’t felt this pathetic since grade school. Look, Dex was comfortable with his appearance. He wasn’t homely, exactly, with biceps that strained most shirts and a gleaming white smile, but he wasn’t anything to write home about, either. He had big ears and an incessant blush that traveled down his whole body at the slightest hint of embarrassment or discomfort (which, with Dex, was often). Aside from that, ginger jokes had been drilled into him since childhood, and he knew he looked like a D-list Weasley twin on a bad day. He harbored no illusions about the way he looked.

            So, crushing on Derek Malik Nurse, who for all intents and purposes may have been the reincarnation of some long-forgotten but much-adored Greek deity? Yeah, he was a little nervous, so sue him.

            Dex had spent the better part of the evening (after a particularly… physical hockey practice) pacing back and forth in his cramped dorm room as if he intended to wear a hole in the shag rug. His roommate had eventually gotten so fed up he’d thrown a shoe at Dex’s head, forcing him to reevaluate his plans for the night. Cooping himself up in the room to worry was only going to spark insomnia, and it was late enough that everything around campus was pretty much closed. That left the Haus.

            So, Dex tromped across campus, shot off a quick text to Chowder to make sure he was up (he was), and before you could say “pitiful” he was seated on Chowder’s floor, clutching a Sharks plushie, wrapped in a Sharks blanket, and trying not to cry.

           

            “I’m swearing you to secrecy,” he’d said. Chowder was wide-eyed. Nodding, eagerly. He had a face you could trust, like a puppy, or Bittle.

 

“I’m gay.”

 

“Oh- Dex! That’s swawesome! I’m glad you-”

 

Dex had held up a hand. “That’s not the secret part.”

 

Chowder straightened from his perch on the bed (and really, Dex sent up a quick prayer of thanks that he had a single), listening aptly.

 

“I think I-” Dex breathed in, deep and halting, in the way that only came directly after tears or directly before an episode of anxiety. “I like Nursey,” he settled on simply, and from the way Chowder’s eyebrows traveled up his forehead, Dex could tell that he had clearly conveyed his meaning.

 

“That’s… Something,” Chowder said carefully.

 

It got indescribably more pathetic from there.

 

The problem wasn’t the fact that he had to repress his feelings. That was no problem. He’d been doing that. The new development, the thing that had pushed Dex to this miserable brink of gnawed fingernails and flustered, bitten-off midnight confessions, was the Dibs.

 

Dibs. He was glad to have gotten them- honestly, he wasn’t sure how he would have been able to afford the next year without the costs being eased by living in the Haus, but he would have found a way. He didn’t seek out Dibs, like some of the other members of the team, either. He fixed the dryer and helped the upperclassmen with their homework and was incessant about fines to raise funds for new ovens and dryers and toasters. He did all of that because he liked fixing things, and helping people. There was something cathartic about improvement.

            But the Dibs hadn’t gone as planned at all. Dex felt stupid now that he thought about it; he hadn’t accounted for the current circumstance at all. He felt a little badly about complaining to Chowder, but given the reason for his emotional turmoil, he couldn’t exactly vent to Nursey, and Chowder was his best friend, so there Dex sat. On the floor.

 

Chowder was ecstatic to get Dibs, and exactly nobody was surprised about that. Really, kid deserved it.

 

But Dex could not share a room with Nursey. It wasn’t even the attic, which would have at least been understandable- plenty of space, already had bunk beds, Rans and Holster had shared for all that time and they were- well. Actually, that point didn’t help Dex figure out how to deal with his unrequited feelings at all.

 

After about half an hour of exasperated stammering through a list of all the things he loved about Nursey (his abs, his smile, his shitty taste in music, when he called Dex “Dexy,” when he pinched Dex’s butt jokingly after practice and told him how well he had done…) Chowder held up a hand.

 

“I’m sorry to cut you off, but you repeated how much you love his ‘stupid dumb hair’” three times, Chowder said, making air quotes with his fingers when quoting Dex.

 

Dex sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face and then dropping his head to his knees.

            “I know,” he said, words coming out muffled and strained. “You’re like, the best listener, Chow.”

Chowder smiled. “Thanks.” He paused, contemplating.

 

“Does Nursey know you’re even interested in men?” Chowder asked gently.

 

Dex lifted his head out of his arms, shaking a no.

“I think… That you need to tell him,” Chowder articulated carefully, folding his hands together in his lap.

 

Dex groaned. “Chowder, I have to share a room with him! I don’t want him to think I’m going to creep on him in his sleep or anything.”

 

Chowder shrugged, noncommittally. “I don’t think Derek Nurse, second only to Shitty in terms of progressiveness, is going to judge you on your sexuality.” He paused, and when he spoke again it was much quieter.

            “Have you considered that Nursey might like you back?”

Seeing how rapidly Dex’s eyes widened, Chowder quickly elaborated.

“Do you know if he likes guys?” Chowder’s face was so earnest that Dex couldn’t bear to maintain eye contact, and back went his head into his arms.

 

“He hooks up with chicks all the time.”

Chowder nodded. “But he could be, like, bisexual, right?”

 

Dex grunted. “But have you seen me?” He looked back up, gesturing at his ears, his carrot-colored hair. “I’m not exactly in the same league as him. Hell, we’re playing different sports. Or like, he’s in the NHL, and I work at the muffler station next to the rink.”

 

Chowder suppressed a smile. “First of all, that’s ridiculous, you’re objectively hot,” he said plainly, numbering off on his fingers. “Two, you two literally bicker all the time. It’s kinda gross. Literally everyone realizes you’re flirting except you two.” He paused, pensive for a second. “Actually, scratch that; the whole team is really oblivious for how nosy they are. But I notice, Farmer notices, and Whiskey notices. Oh, and Johnson texted me a few days ago asking if you two are ‘on track to resolve your sexual tension,’ so. Some people definitely notice.”

 

“That’s ridic- wait, Johnson?” Chowder shrugged.

 

“He texts me about goalie things sometimes. And he says he likes to keep up with the narrative arc, or whatever.”

 

“Weird dude,” Dex muttered, then seemed to re-focus on the conversation at hand. “Wait, so… You’re saying he could like men? I guess that makes sense… But there’s no way he’d be interested in me. He likes poetry, and weed, and… Having fun. I’m not fun! Whiskey called me a smaller, angrier Jack the other day, and it pissed me off because I’m taller than Jack, and then Whiskey said that’s not why it should piss me off! I am not compatible with the king of chill.” Dex was practically shouting by now, and Chowder’s smile was only growing more affixed to his face.

 

“Don’t you hear yourself? You’re like two halves of the same coin. Seriously, talk to him.”

 

“Ugh. Fuck. I hate coins; I hate coin flipping; I hate Dibs; I hate Nursey…” Dex trailed off, standing up to leave.

“Chowder, you’re the best bro.” Dex leaned in for a hug- unusual, for him- which resulted in a squeak of pleasure from Chowder.

 

“Any time, Dex,” he said earnestly as Dex let go. He let out a yawn. “If that time is after I’ve had at least six hours of sleep,” he remedied. Dex laughed, hand already on the doorknob.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**NURSEY**

It was strangely quiet for the Haus. There was the occasional clatter of something from the kitchen, and the aromas that always precede some sort of delectable sugary concoction from Bitty, and Dex notes Nursey’s light breathing. The TV was on mute, but Nursey was playing something soft and melodic from a portable speaker hooked up to his phone, and- Dex shouldn’t be so in tune with the rise and fall of Nursey’s chest from across the room, but somehow he feels like their kinetic energies, or chakras, or whatever (something his sister believes that Dex swears is all bullshit, except when he doesn’t) are perfectly aligned with each other and the beat.

 

His computing homework was almost done, and Bitty was baking what was probably a pie, and Nursey was on the couch across from the shockingly comfortable armchair they’d dragged into the Haus a few weeks ago. Dex was comfortable. Dex was calm. He didn’t really process it, but the feeling was nonetheless there. He absentmindedly bounced his left leg to the beat of Nursey’s hipster music that he wouldn’t admit he liked. (He didn’t like it, okay? It just grew on him after almost three months of sharing a room. Like moss.) His fingers flew captivatingly over the keys of his computer, finishing up the last of this coding set before team dinner. Nursey couldn’t help but sneak glances at him, the result being that Nursey had read the same paragraph of Macbeth roughly ten times now. He ended up setting the book down, resigning himself to marking his page with a teal sticky note and vowing to actually finish his homework later. Probably once Dex was out of sight and Nursey’s phone was off, to avoid distractions. (Nursey had never claimed, despite years of private schooling, tutoring, and a relatively high IQ, to have a good attention span.)

 

Dex finally seemed almost done, typing slowing as he added the finishing touches to his code before linking his fingers behind his head and leaning back. His back popped, and he winced slightly before sighing in relief. He glanced up at Nursey, where he was perched on the biohazard couch.

“You alright?” he asked, noticing Nursey staring at him. He went back to the computer, making sure his files were saved before gently, but with evident relief, closing the lid.

“Yeah…” Nursey dragged out. Dex just raised a single ginger eyebrow, all too used to Nursey deep in thought.

Nursey’s eyes were very clearly on Dex’s computer, and Dex was torn between being defensive of his computer (it was cheap compared to Nursey’s Macbook, okay, but it got the job done), glad Nursey’s eyes weren’t on him, and… Mad Nursey’s eyes weren’t on him.

“Just… Why the Samwell Republicans sticker, man?”

 

Nursey didn’t sound mad. Dex, once his knee-jerk initial defensiveness was set aside, had to realize this. He sounded more along the lines of tired, with a hint of general inquisitiveness.

Dex figured he deserved an answer, and the question wasn’t even that odd, so he didn’t know why it felt like the back of his neck was on fire and like someone had constructed a butterfly habitat in his stomach.

 

“They handed one to me, and it felt rude not to take it.” It came out like a question rather than an answer, and with that harsh edge of defensiveness creeping in unwittingly. Dex cringed inwardly at his lack of the trademark Derek Nurse “chill,” awaiting the chirp that would inevitably come. There was a pause that, to Dex, felt ten years, and was probably more like ten seconds.

“I just, like, don’t get it.” Nursey sounded genuinely confused, staring off into space as if imagining a whiteboard supplied by Ransom and Holster would appear to give him all the answers.

 

“What is there to get about voting Republican?” Dex asked flatly. His mind would normally shoot off in a thousand different directions, imagining insults before they ever came and shooting down perceived slights like birds out of the air. The conversation, though, was just confusing him right now. He felt like he was on fire, but not in the signature way that meant he was blushing an all-too-familiar tomato red. No, this was more like… An itch.

 

Nursey was staring at him, now. He shrugged casually, the picture of chill. Dex felt stiff. “You’re like, super chill, man.” Nursey half-smiled, genuine in a way Dex only aspired to be. “

“You have a major stick up your ass sometimes, bro, but…” Nursey suddenly looked wary, which was strange.

 

Dex had always assumed he was a speak-before-you-think kind of person.

 

“You’re just not half the asshole I chalked you up to be when we first met.”

 

Dex didn’t know why he felt so indignant, didn’t know why the way Nursey’s voice shaped the last few words in that sentence twisted in Dex’s gut.

 

He knew, though, he was doubtless as red as the aforementioned Republican sticker.

 

“I still don’t understand,” he said.

 

Nursey looked frustrated, shifting on the couch.

 

“You’re not some small-town homophobic asshole.” He said it like he was offering up an apology for an insult never given.

 

Dex looked incredulous. “Well, being gay, that would be a bit against my self-interests,” he said slowly, as if explaining something to a toddler.

 

If you had asked Nursey to place the expression on Dex’s face then, he would swear he looked amused. It was only brief, a flicker of gleaming white toothy smile before Dex reverted back to his signature smirk that meant incessant chirping or smug fuckery was to follow.

 

“You’re gay?” Nursey’s eyebrows had travelled up his forehead, and Dex took a defensive posture immediately. “Aren’t you from, like, nowheresville in Maine? You told me your family was like, super old-fashioned.”

 

Dex rolled his eyes. “I mean, yeah, they’re Irish Catholics, and my grandparents are set in their ways but… Dude, it’s still the twenty-first century up there.”

            “I figured it wouldn’t be accepting enough for you to like, know that about yourself. I’m surprised you didn’t come out all repressed and shit.” Derek shrugged with just one shoulder.

 

Dex felt numb. “It’s not like that, Christ, Nurse-” he drops his head into his hands, pressing against the formation of a headache at his temples.

 

“It’s not like Maine doesn’t have gay people, fuck, I had a high school boyfriend, Nurse, I- I didn’t live under a rock.”

 

Nursey is staring at him incredulously. “Your parents were okay with that?”

 

“Yes! Fuck, Nursey, they didn’t disown me or anything, if you can believe that! Sometimes you project, this like, version of who you think I am and-” Dex cuts himself off, huffing.

 

“Dex, dude, you’re like the epitome of conservative politics.”

 

“Fiscally! I’m not even a Rep- listen, I’m a Libertarian, just because I vote for conservative economic policies doesn’t mean-”

 

“You exude toxic masculinity,” Derek numbered off on a second finger. He had leaned forward now, and the copy of Macbeth had fallen to the floor.

 

Dex was fiery red. “It’s not my fault I’m good at fixing things! I enjoy it, there’s nothing wrong with… Wait,  toxic?”

 

By now, he was shouting, and had thrown his hands in the air, but Derek still looked befuddled.

 

“You made all those comments- Bitty being too good at baking to be on the team?”

 

Dex scrubbed his hands over his face. “I thought it would be more… bro-ey. Not the Rans and Holster type, but… I didn’t cut you guys enough slack before I came here. I thought you’d be less competent.” He glared at Nursey. “Not that you’re not plenty incompetent, but… y’know. I figured there’d be less pie and more ramen noodles. How is that possibly homophobic?”

Derek stared off into space for a few solid seconds. “I guess I owe you an I’m sorry, Poindexter.”

Dex’s cheeks rapidly heated again, and not for the first time in this conversation did he curse his being a ginger.

 

“Yeah, s’alright.” Dex glanced back down at his computer, not having anything else to do, but needing something to focus on that wasn’t the endearingly, infuriatingly chiseled cheekbones of Derek Nurse.

 

“Hey, um,” Derek said softly. Dex looked up, expectant.

            “Thanks for telling me. That. Y’know.”

 

Dex smiled softly. “No prob, man. No big thing.”

 

Derek leaned forward conspiratorially. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

 

Dex shrugged, nonchalant. “It just never came up, dude.”

 

Something flitted across Derek’s face, a dark and concerning expression, bordering one worry, that Dex would be hard pressed to place. It was only for a fraction of a second, tough, so quick that Dex might have imagined it, and then the usual toothy Derek-Nurse-grin was back.

 

“Chill,” he smiled, and Dex knew he meant it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**BITTY**

 

Dex felt like he was breathing through a mouth and nose full of cotton. Ever since his conversation with Chowder in the wee hours of the morning a few nights ago, he had been meaning to come out to Nursey- not reveal his feelings, thank god he hadn’t done that; that would have ended catastrophically, his mind spun.

 

He hadn’t meant for it to just… Come so casually. He couldn’t help it; being around Nursey made him feel like he was pleasantly drunk, or wrapped in a warm, safe cocoon. He felt like he could say anything and at the same time felt like no words that left his lips would be rendered as he meant. He could say anything in that warm, soft time, just the two of them, and he could say anything but he couldn’t… Couldn’t make it mean anything. Couldn’t shape the words the way he wanted; he didn’t have the gift of conveying meanings with words, not like Nursey did.

 

Bitty had called them into the kitchen for pie- the main reason Dex told himself he was at the Haus, anyway, to disguise the fact that he was actually, primarily, there to see Nursey, though the pie was quite a bonus. Nobody questioned pie. There were no feelings in a pie. (Well, unless you asked Bitty, or anyone who had ever nearly creamed their pants due to the sublime taste of one of Bitty’s pies, but those were more socially acceptable feelings, okay?!)

 

So, Dex dug his nails into his palms, preying neither Bitty nor Nursey would notice.

 

Dex smiled and thanked his way through Bitty handing him a plate- a large piece of rhubarb pie, with the usual golden crust, shiny with butter.

 

They take their plates back to the living room. Dex, done with his homework, turns the TV volume back on.

 

“Whaddaya wanna watch?” Nursey asks him, around a mouthful of food, eyes scanning the guide that Dex had pulled up.

 

“You,” Dex thinks.

“I dunno. Survivor reruns?” is what he says.

 

Nursey shrugs, picking up his book and trying to read it, one hand, with the other carefully maneuvering pie from plate to mouth via fork. He manages to only drop a bite on his lap once, and Dex manages to make the laugh that ensues sound chirpy instead of hopelessly endeared.

 

After a couple episodes of Survivor (Nursey had put his book down again, as he and Dex had taken up betting on who was hooking up, or who would get voted off the island, despite having seen these reruns before), Nursey said he’d head back to the dorms.

 

Dex, now engrossed in an episode of Swamp People, nodded. He glanced down at his watch. It was getting late; he’d better head back after this.

            He vaguely registered the front door closing, vaguely registered Holster trampling up the stairs with two plates of leftover pie (presumably, one for Ransom).

 

The episode credits rolled, and Dex stood, getting ready to leave, when he heard Bitty’s voice.

 

“Dex?” His head was poking out of the kitchen entrance, and his brow was furrowed.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You busy, honey? I could use some help in here.”

 

Dex shrugged, making his way to the kitchen. Like he’d ever say no to Bitty.

 

He pushed the door open carefully- it was unstable on the hinges, now, after some drunk asshole had slammed their full weight against it at the last kegster; he’d have to readjust the hinges- to find Bitty, standing in front of a relatively manageable pile of dirty dishes.

 

“I figured I could wash, you dry?” He held up a rag, and Dex took it, nodding.

 

“So how’s your day been?” Bitty asked, clearly fishing. Despite the loaded question, his voice was soaked in the usual Georgian syrup, sincere and caring.

 

“Good,” Dex said.

 

“Mm-hm. Are you doin okay? You seemed a little off in the kitchen earlier.”

 

Dex was suddenly very, very absorbed in harshly scrubbing one particular, invisible spot on the plate he’d been holding.

“Did I?” he mumbled, neither answering nor ducking the question. He just couldn’t lie to Bitty, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to anymore.

 

“Just know that I’m here if you want to talk about anything.”

 

Dex inhaled deeply.

 

“I guess I need some advice,” he admitted.

 

“Oh, Dex.” Bitty drew his hand out of the suds of the sink, shutting the tap off, though he kept wiping out the pie pan in his left hand with leisurely, circular motions.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Is it… Feelings for someone?” Bitty ventured. Dex noted his care to avoid gendered pronouns.

 

“I like a boy. One of my- well. He can’t know,” Dex said.

 

“May I ask why that is?”

 

“He just can’t, Bits. Make it… weird and shit.”

 

Bitty smiled, a sad, knowing quirk of the lips that said more than any words ever could.

 

“Can I give you a word of advice? As someone who’s… been in your shoes, so to speak, it really isn’t beneficial to hold it in. It eats you up inside, hon, and keeping quiet about these things never works out. For anyone,” he emphasised, jabbing a finger in the air at Dex.

 

“I just don’t know what I would do if he didn’t feel the same way. It might- it might break me.” His voice was, miraculously, stable, but he could feel a tight rubber band squeezing around his chest, constricting his heart and lungs with the suffocation of an impossible future.

 

“Dex, I’m sure he feels the same way, if that’s any consolation,” Bitty hummed.

 

Dex just shook his head, smiling indulgently at Bitty’s enduring optimism. “I haven’t even told you who I’m talking about, Bits.”

 

“Oh, honey!” Bitty laughed. “You don’t need to.”

 

Dex felt heat rise to his cheeks, and hastily went back to drying the dishes, efficiently this time.

 

“Am I really that obvious?” he asked, sheepish.

 

Bitty let out another small laugh. “Yeah, ya are. But that’s okay! I know I can be as corny as a Nebraska field during harvesting season myself. I was around Jack, always, and you know what? I thought he didn’t feel anything for me, just the way you feel about Derek Nurse. And look where Jack and I are now! Trust me honey, I know that look when I see it,” he chirped, swatting Dex with a wet rag and eliciting a yelp of soap-induced shock.

 

“Now get outta my kitchen and get back to the dorms before it gets too dark for the raccoons!”

 

Dex laughed. “Alright, alright. And just so you know, um. Thanks, Bits.”

 

Bitty was positively glowing as he practically shoved Dex out of the kitchen. “Go! Get your man!”

 

Dex inhaled, the sharp New England air hitting him in the face as he flung open the door of the Haus. For once, he fully intended to follow the advice he was given.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**RANSOM AND HOLSTER**

 “Brooooooooooo!”

Dex cringed, closing his economics textbook and carefully marking the page. So much for getting ahead on the reading- with the entry of Ransom, and Holster never far behind him, the Haus immediately became more boisterous.

 

The pair were always jovial, but seemed in an especially good mood as they traipsed through the threshold to the living room, Holster’s arm slung around Rans’ shoulders, proving their ability to move while attached at the hip. Rans had been the one who called, but they had matching devious glints in their eyes.

 

“Yes?” Dex asked, hesitant.

 

“Dude, just the bro we wanted to see,” Rans exclaimed, gesticulating wildly in the air.

 

“What he means is that we have a proposition for you,“ Holster began.

“An opportunity,” Ransom finished.

 

Dex looked at them blankly.

 

Holster grinned, genuine and enthused. “We found you a date! She’s, like,”

 

“Super handy, and volunteers at an animal shelter,”

 

“And like, fixes, I dunno. Dog pens? But she’s really cool, her name is Karen.”

 

“Blonde, really tall? She told me she used to play volleyball-“

 

Dex held up a hand, cutting off the exchange. “First of all, it’s kinda creepy how you finish each other’s sentences like that, but… I’m gonna have to decline on that, guys.”

 

“Dude, why?” Ransom yelled.

 

“I- I’m already in a relationship,” Dex said.

 

“WHAT?” Holster lit up like a Christmas tree. “Duuuuude! What? Bro! Cool! Wait, since when?”

 

Dex scratched his head sheepishly. “Um, yesterday.”

 

“Wait, with who?” Ransom interjected, one eyebrow travelling up his forehead.

 

“Um.”

Before Dex could begin, in a moment of perfect comedic timing, Nursey burst through the door.

 

“Dex!” he shouted, leaping to hug him like a dog seeing its owner after a long day apart.

 

“Dude, no way,” Holster whispered.

 

Dex shrugged, and at that point leaned into his boyfriend and allowed Nursey to kiss the shell of his ear. (They’d pretty much immediately had the coming out and relationship status talk, and decided they would just perform their new coupls status in front of their friends and peers until everyone else just figured it out. More chill than a formal announcement, and it had worked fro Rans and Holster, and Whiskey and Tango, so, if it ain’t broke.)

 

In the doorway, Ransom and Holster were exchanging pointed glares and heated whispers.

 

“Dude, why didn’t we know this?”

 

“Bro, ugh,” Holster groaned. “We have to let that girl know-“

“Maybe we could set her up with April? She’s been wanting to get out lately-“

“Dude! Swawesome idea, you always have the best ideas,” Holster gushed.

 

“Do you guys like…. Mind?” Nursey asked, from his seat straddling Dex’s lap on the couch.

 

“No, but we could fine you guys right now,” Ransom chirped.

 

Dex raised an eyebrow. “The same goes for us to you.” Ransom conceded with a nod of his head, noting the ostentatious displays of affection that had been universally shown.

 

Holster looked thoughtful for a fraction of a second before grabbing Ransom’s arm and tugging him towards the attic stairs.

 

 

**SHITTY**

 

Shitty was a menace when high. He was high a lot- had been, anyway, back in his Samwell days. Less so now, Nursey supposed, that he was a full-time Harvard law student. Had appearances to keep up, and, well. The sheer workload. But, every once in awhile, he would come down to Samwell to visit with Jack, and prove he could still party like the old days. (Jack still avoided parties like the old days- he would mysteriously disappear with Bitty and emerge hours later. Nobody asked. That’s the bitch of long distance relationships, Nursey thought wryly.)

 

Shitty, high as a kite, would somehow intensify his never-ending quest to perpetuate equality. It was a noble effort, really, but Nursey could do without his admittedly misguided efforts. Especially when he had an arm slung over his boyfriend’s shoulders and had a nice buzz, teetering on the edge of drunk but not quite tipping over it. He honestly just wanted to go upstairs and listen to Tegan and Sara and maybe cuddle. So sue him.

 

He suggested it, a breathy whisper in Dex’s ear. Dex had thrown his head back, giggling. Dex could hold his liquor like almost nobody he knew, but he’d had several jello shots and an uncharacteristic couple hits of a joint Nursey had procured earlier, so he was loose and happy. Nursey was so into it.

 

“That’s so gay,” Dex had laughed.

 

Shitty, casually shirtless in the way only he could pull off and gripping a cup of tub juice in his left hand, descended upon them like an eagle spotting a mouse over an Arizona desert.

 

Oh, no.

 

“Dudes, that’s like, totally not swawesome. Honestly I’m like, ashamed dudes… The Samwell I remember was an accepting place. For all sexualities. It just contributes to toxic cultural ideals to assume that-”

 

Dex, who had until now been staring at Shitty dumbfoundedly, stepped forward to clap a hand to Shitty’s (bare, grossly sweaty) shoulder.

            “Dude.” He locked eyes with Shitty. “I’m gay. I am dating a man. I am gay dating. Talking about gay music. With my gay boyfriend. Who I’m going to go give a gay blowjob to and then gay cuddle.”

           

Dex stepped back, grabbing Nursey’s hand and pulling him towards the hall that led to their room. Once they were out of earshot, Nursey whistled lowly.

            “Dude. That was swawesome.”

Dex turned back to him, grinning. “Yeah, I just didn’t need to hear it right now. I think we scarred Shitty.”

 

Nursey smirked. He couldn’t find it in himself to care about Shitty while his boyfriend pulled him up the stairs towards their shared bedroom.

“Eh. Lardo’s here; she’ll find him.”

 

They clamored up the stairs, Nursey slamming Dex against the door once they were inside the bedroom and kissing him deeply. “It’s so hot when you act like an asshole,” he breathed, eliciting a giggle from Dex.

 

“You complain when I’m an asshole to you,” he teased.

 

Derek rolled his eyes, but Dex likely didn’t see it, as Derek was busy pulling Dex’s t-shirt up over his head.

His skin was warm under Derek’s fingers, like an external manifestation of the warm, fluttery buzz that had settled in Derek’s chest, half tub juice and half comfort in another person’s presence. He knew Dex felt the same. That absolute assurance of emotional reciprocation, Derek thought, might have been even better than the emotion itself. He should write that down.

 

That thought was quickly chased away by Dex drawing Derek’s lower lip in between his teeth (and man, in moments like these Derek cherished the inch he had on Dex, which led to Dex standing on his tiptoes and pulling him in by the belt loops and- they were still fully clothed, deep breaths, pull it together).

 

“I love you so much,” Derek breathed, pulling away. Dex stilled, eyes widening.

 

Derek gulped immediately. It wasn’t their first I love you, not by a long shot, but the way Dex pulled away gave him butterflies of longing like their first time all over again.

 

“That’s fuckin gay,” Dex said with a smirk, immediately banishing Derek’s worries.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t chuckle to himself as he pushed Dex backwards on the bed. The bed they shared, he thought, and that sent another warm flood of emotion through his limbs.

 

Fuckin Lardo and her coin flip, Nursey noted to himself with giddy ease as he worked a hickey into Dex’s neck. It might have been the best thing to ever happen to him.

 

 

**Johnson.**

 

He wasn’t surprised when the pair walked through the door of the Bandage. (Classy place, but didn’t have the same vibe of the Tourniquet- same owners, though. Just far enough from the Samwell campus that it warranted a drive instead of a walk or a bicycle, which meant it was far enough away for Johnson to have a meal without worrying about his presence interfering with the main plot arcs.)  

 

Nursey and Dex were both in what passed for formal wear among college students, or at least appropriate date-night apparel. Dex, a navy button-down with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, tucked into freshly pressed slacks. Nursey, a cream sweater- cashmere, from the looks of it. Nursey had his hand on the small of Dex’s back, and Dex was smiling into Nursey’s shoulder. A perky hostess appeared out of nowhere

 

He wasn’t surprised they were dating- was never surprised by much, and besides, he’d already received a very enthusiastic message from Chowder informing him of the development. The kid was adorable, really. The text was saturated with exclamation marks and smiley face emoticons. (“OMG Johnson!!!!! Guess who’s dating?!??!? Dex and Nursey!! How swawesome is that?!”)

It was about time. The sexual tension between those two had been unbearable. (Not that he was there to see it, obviously, having graduated, but he knew every character arc that would ever take place, and had a decent insight into most Alternate Universes, and man. Yeesh. There was a lot of pining going on; that’s all he had to say.)

 

He turned away, locking eyes with the woman returning from the bathroom. “Sorry, I had to take a call,” she said sheepishly, sipping her still-damp hands on her skirt.

 

“It’s okay. How are things in Night Vale?”

 

Dana rolled her eyes as she pulled out her chair, taking a seat.

“You know how it is. Let’s skip the small talk that implies we don’t already know most things about each other’s main plot arcs.”

 

Johnson smiled. This was what he liked about Dana.

As she flipped open the menu, lamenting the lack of screaming turkeys, he turned slightly and caught, in his peripheral vision, Dex’s mop of ginger hair bent towards the table, shoulders shaking in laughter and Nursey beaming a thousand-watt smile from across the table, chin rested in his hands like Dex was the only thing in the world.

Besides being happy for the kids, it was always a relief when they passed a new landmark in the script. Oh, he smiled, the fans would go crazy over this one.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the longest thing ive ever written and it's not at all my favorite, but there it is.


End file.
